


in the golden afternoon

by bisousniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flowers, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisousniall/pseuds/bisousniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall can talk to flowers, but his life is pretty uncomplicated despite this. Until Harry shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the golden afternoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brokendrums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendrums/gifts).



> When I found out I was going to be writing for Shannon I was SO excited but also very, very nervous because her fics are always so great. I strayed from your prompt a little bit, but the essence is still there. I wish I had time to write like 10k more of this, but sadly I did not. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, and friends who always listen to me complain about writing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, Shannon!

Niall wakes up at sunrise in the summer to the sounds of the lilac bush outside his window singing. By the time he reaches the backyard with a cup of tea in one hand and his watering can in the other, his entire garden is a cacophony of sound. Every flower is chattering loudly, wanting to tell Niall what they need for the day. The aster daisies need more water, the geraniums are having weed issues, and the hydrangeas need aphid control. He has four hours before he has to be at the flower shop, so he gets to work. The sun starts to rise over his little duplex, hot on the back of his neck, and he forgot sunscreen, of course. The snapdragons will get on his case about it again, no doubt. They've always concerned themselves with his business a bit too much.

When he finishes three hours later he just has time for a quick shower and to pack a lunch before he's heading off to the flower shop. Breslin's Flowers is one of the oldest shops in town, and Niall is the fifth in a line of Horans to work there. Great-great grandpappy Horan was one of the first employees the shop ever had, as he had the same gift Niall, his Da, his grandpa, his great grandpa and countless other Horans had: a green thumb. At least, that's what many townspeople referred to it as. Niall's Da called it "the gift." Niall's manager, Bressie, called it "the fuckery." Both were apt.

Breslin's Flowers is a short ten minute bike ride from Niall's house, and he’s done it so many times he could do it with his eyes closed, if he was asked to. Niall is very lucky, he knows that. Just like he came from a long line of Horans who had The Gift, Bressie came from a long line of Breslins that kept The Gift A Secret. Or, as much of A Secret as it could be. The townspeople all know that something is up with the Horan family, for as The Gift was passed down the Horan bloodline, and The Secret was passed down the Breslin bloodline, so was The Gossip passed down the bloodlines of the families in Mullingar.

He parks his bike at the front of the shop and carefully locks it up.

“Hello, Laura!” He says cheerfully as he strides through the front door, but stops in his tracks when he sees a man standing behind the counter who is definitely not Laura. “You’re not Laura.”

“I’m not, no,” the man replies. He has straggly brown hair with a wide brimmed black hat, and an ivory sort of silk shirt that is unbuttoned nearly to his belly button. It also has some very friendly red roses printed on it that waste no time in chatting Niall up.

“You need to wash your shirt,” Niall replies, an awkwardly long amount of time later, he realizes.

“Pardon?”

“Uh, your shirt...it’s just the rose on your shirt said, I mean-”

“Niall, there you are,” Bressie, bless his heart, chooses that second to come in from the back room. “Oh, right, Niall this is Harry, our new front-end guy, and Harry, this is Niall, the best florist you’ll ever meet.”

Harry has a smirk on his face and the roses on his shirt are giggling and  Niall feels like an idiot, but he hols out his hand for a polite handshake anyways.

“What happened to Laura?” Niall asks.

“Well, you know she’s going to London, and Harry just got into town yesterday and needed a job for a few months. Worked out bizarrely perfect, actually.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Niall. I’ve heard a lot about you already.” Harry says. Niall’s stomach drops. He knows the townspeople talk, but Harry’s only been in town for a day.

“He met my Da in the pub last night,” Bressie clarifies. He’s always so good at knowing what Niall is thinking. Maybe that is the Breslin's Gift. “That’s how he got the job.”

“He had very good things to say.”

“Well, thanks. Hope I can live up to them.” Niall says with a shrug.

“Alright, enough chatting lads, back to work. You’ve got that O’Hara wedding in two days, Nialler.”

“Alright, Big Face, go on get outta here.” Niall makes his way to the back room where he does all of his work, but spares one last glance back to Harry before he disappears through the door.

Harry is already looking at him, and they hold eye contact for a couple seconds before the door swings closed behind Niall. Niall shakes his head at himself, and how foolish he just was. A five generation old secret and Niall almost revealed the whole thing to some weirdo in a farmer hat with nice eyes.

“Get a grip, Horan,” he whispers to himself, which was a bad idea. Of course the Carnations overhear that. They’re just so nosy, sometimes.

_What’s happening?_ They ask.

“Just the new front-end boy,” Niall replies, sheepishly. He spares a moment to hope Harry can’t hear him through the door. Niall has firsthand experience on what people think of you if they catch you talking to yourself like that. He’s not sure if it would make it better or worse to explain he was actually talking to the flowers.

The carnations hum in interest. _Is he cute?_ one asks.

Niall shrugs. “I suppose he is. He’s got a nice face, weird clothes though.”

The whole crowd of flowers laugh, and  Niall realizes all of them are listening to him now, not just the carnations.

_Has Nialler got a crush?_ the baby’s breath calls out.

“I can think someone is fit without having a crush on them. Besides, I’ve only just met him.”

“Niall? Are you trying to talk to me?”

Niall jumps, and drops the empty bucket of fertilizer he was holding. “Jesus!” He wheezes, and turns to see Harry poking his head through the door. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry, mate. Just thought I heard you talking to someone, thought maybe you were trying to get my attention.”

"Nope, just working. Quietly. Quietly working, y'know."

"Alright, I'll leave you to it." Harry smiles a bit awkwardly before slipping back through the door to the front of the shop.

_That was uncomfortable_ , a lily calls out.

"Oh piss off."

+

Life passes on like that for the rest of the week. Niall arrives at the shop to Harry's smiling face and the flowers' incessant teasing. It doesn't change much until Niall shows up at work on Friday and Laura is there. He greets her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"So I'm throwing a going away party tonight, down at the pub."

"Oh, Laura, I'm gonna miss you too much."

"Well, maybe you'll have to come visit? Get out of the 'Gar for once?"

Niall shrugs. "Maybe." Even though he knows it's not going to happen. His secret, The Gift, keeps him rooted to Mullingar.

"Invite the cute new sales clerk, too, will ya?"

Niall blanches a bit at that. He looks over to the front counter where Harry is helping out a customer. If he heard Laura’s comment he’s definitely not showing it.

“I don't know, I think he thinks I'm weird."

"And he'd be completely spot on, but he keeps glancing over here at you, so I think he might be into the weirdness."

Niall can feel the tips of his ears redden, but he doesn't dare look back to the counter. "He's probably looking at you," Niall argues. Laura is one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen and Harry would be a fool not to look at her.

"Whatever, Nialler. I'll see you later tonight then, yeah?" Laura replies, then leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek, which Niall reciprocates.

"Bye, love."

Niall watches as Laura leaves the store, with the customers following behind her. He turns back to Harry, who actually is looking at him now that the customer is gone.

"Was that your girlfriend then?" Harry asks.

Niall snorts a bit. "Laura? No way. Even if I wanted to she would beat me off with a broom."

Niall had actually tried it once, when he was quite drunk after a night at the pub. Laura had made sure he got home safely, and Niall thought the best way to repay her was with a kiss. He had been wrong.  

"You took over her job, actually," Niall explains. "She's moving to London to pursue a TV job, and she wants me to invite you to her going away party tonight.”

“Why’s that?”

Niall shrugs, trying his best to seem nonchalant despite the taunting coming from the lilies on Harry’s shirt. “Maybe she thinks you’re cute.”

“Well, blonde is my type.” Harry admits. Niall’s stomach turns uncomfortably, and he doesn’t feel like analyzing that reaction. The lilies are being incredibly rude now, too. Assholes. “Are you going to be there?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll go.”

And well, Niall doesn’t know what to do about that.

+

Two things happen at the bar during Laura’s going away party. Firstly, Harry does show up, wearing a different floral shirt than the one he had on earlier. This one is sort of a creamy white satin with violets scattered all over. They’re a bit shier than the lilies were earlier, Niall barely gets a ‘hello’ out of them. The next thing that happens is Niall gets spectacularly drunk. Pretty par for the course on a night out with Laura and Bressie, only this time Harry is there. Niall is only vaguely aware of the fact that he barely even knows Harry. They’ve worked together for five days, and they’ve been a very amiable five days, and Harry’s been nothing but polite, but still. Five days. Yet Niall is draped over him at their booth, talking about...something. Niall’s not even really sure. What he does know is that Harry smells really good. His lips are really hypnotic when he talks, and his eyes are bright and alluring.

The rest of the night is mostly a blur. He’d moved on from beer four to five to six and then he’d lost count. He might’ve had a whiskey at some point. He knows he makes it home, as he wakes up in his own bed the next morning with a pounding headache and a mouth so dry, like he’d been eating sand the night before. It’s not until he’s got his tea ready, and is standing on his back steps looking out at his talkative garden that memories from the night before start coming back to him. Like getting way too into Harry’s space, talking loudly and probably laughing right in his face, and worst of all, he remembers telling Harry about the violets on his shirt. He doesn’t recall exactly what he said, but he thinks he might have mumbled something about the violets being shy, and that violets were always shy. And that at least they were better than the loud mouthed roses from the other day.

So, basically now Harry thinks he’s fucking delusional. Unless he actually believes Niall can talk to the flowers on his shirt. He needs to sit down before he passes out.

He sits under the shade of his lilac bush and dials Bressie. He answers after the third ring with a very polite, “What the feck do you want? Some of us like to sleep in on our days off.”

Niall decides not to point out that he would love to sleep in, but he has a garden of noisy flowers who need him, and will give him shit if he does sleep in. But he will be taking a nap later, thank you very much.

“Brez, I’m freaking out. I think I accidentally told Harry about my thing last night.”

“Thing, thing...what thing, your massive crush?”

“Crush? God, no you bastard, the flower thing.”

“You told Harry about The Fuckery?” Bressie asks. He sounds a lot less freaked out about it than Niall is currently. “What exactly did you say?”

“I don’t remember the exact words, I know I talked about flowers a lot. Might’ve mentioned the violets on his shirt. I was drunk.”

“I remember, chief, I was there. I don’t recall you mentioning anything about The Fuckery, but I do remember you were hanging off him pretty bad as he brought you out and poured you into a cab.”

“How embarrassing,” Niall groans.

“Do you want my advice?” 

“Of course, that’s why I called you.”

“Stop overthinking it. You probably didn’t say anything too bad, and whatever you did say can be explained away by alcohol. That’s my advice.”

+

Niall fails to take Bressie’s advice to heart, and he worries. He worries all day in the garden, all evening as he eats dinner in-front of the television , and into the night as he lays in bed. When he wakes up on Sunday, he’s still a bit worried.

By Monday morning, he’s reached a homeostasis on the matter. He knows Bressie is right, alcohol is a great excuse in this situation. He plans the whole thing out as he rides to work. He’s going to walk in, and he’s going to thank Harry for getting him into a cab, Harry is going to smile and say something polite, Niall will say something polite back, thank him again, then go back to his work station and the whole flower thing will never even be brought up. Foolproof.

He parks his bike in the usual spot, and braces himself before pushing open the door to the shop. Harry is behind the counter with his usual grin in place.

“Niall! I’m glad to see you’re still alive. After the state you were in on Friday, I have to say I was a bit concerned.”

Niall cringes a bit, for the laugh, which Harry gives quickly. “Yeah, mate. Thanks for getting me into a cab that night, I was kind of a mess.”

“You were,” Harry agrees, and pauses for a second. “Also really obsessed with flowers.”

“Fuck,” Niall mutters, this time cringing for real. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I kind of loved it.”

“You...loved hearing me drunkenly ramble about flowers?”

“Well,” Niall can practically see Harry’s gears turning, trying to think of a way to explain what he means. “I guess I just admire how passionate you are about what you do. You almost talk about them like they’re real people. It’s just nice to see I guess. It’s cool.”

“Most people just think I’m a big weirdo.”

“Most people aren’t lucky enough to be doing what they love.”

“I guess I never thought about it like that. Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Niall turns to head towards the back room but he has a feeling Harry is still watching him. He checks over his shoulder as he pushes through the swinging doors to see Harry, indeed, still watching him. It makes his cheeks feel warm.

“Good morning everyone,” Niall greets the flowers. He gets a loud, unison response of ‘good morning’ in reply.

“Listen, um, I’ve got a...well I’m just wondering, how do you know if you’ve got a crush?”

+

After the drinking incident, Harry seems to be convinced they are the best of friends. Every morning when he gets to work Harry has a cup of tea waiting for him (somehow he finds out how Niall takes it, probably from Bressie) and a really long and weird story about something that has happened to him since they had seen each other last. The stories are usually terrible or make no sense, but Niall likes how much Harry gets into them, and it’s fun to tease him afterwards. The stories are usually about customers, or about his landlord, Mr. Flynn. Until one Friday morning, Niall arrives at work to a very coy looking Harry.

“Alright then, what’s the craic?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“You know Kelly Flynn,” Harry asks, although it sounds like he’s just confirming. She’s been in a few of Harry’s stories so Niall definitely remembers her.

“Your landlord’s daughter, yeah?”

“Yeah, well she came by last night to check up on things and we kind of...you know."

Niall squinted a bit, cocked his head in confusion. Was he...

"We got off with each other," Harry clarifies.

“Wait, did you shift her or shag her?”

“I ate her out,” Harry explained with a quirk of his eyebrow. “And she pulled me off.”

“Jesus, alright. Get in, lad,” Niall’s stomach turns uncomfortably and he tries to convince himself it isn’t jealousy. It’s just that Harry’s lips are almost obscenely red, and imagining them on a clit or even stretched around a dick is too much for Niall, especially at nine in the morning on a Friday.

“It’s nice to blow off some steam,” Harry says, but he looks extremely self satisfied, like he wants Niall to ask more detail. Niall doesn’t think he can stomach any more of the nitty gritty.

“I’ll bet. So are you gonna be a regular thing now?”

Harry laughs. “No, she made that very clear, that it was just a one time thing. Guess I shouldn’t mess around with my landlord’s daughter, huh?”

“Yeah, probably not for the best.”

Harry picks up the cup of tea meant for Niall and hands it to him. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye Harry.”

Niall turns to walk towards his backroom, but Harry stops him.

“Hey, it’s a Friday. Do you wanna hit the pub up for some drinks after work?”

“I’ll probably be staying later than you, though.”

“It’s alright, I’ll go home for a bit, meet you back here around six?”

“Sure, sounds nice.”

+

Niall spends most of his day worrying. The last time he went out with Harry he ended up way too drunk and embarrassed, and came close to spilling a five or more generation old secret. The baby’s breath tell him to man-up, and the orchids tell them to stop reinforcing patriarchal language. Niall had tried to explain to Katie Burns that orchids and baby’s breath never got along, but she was insistent on that combination for her wedding arrangements.

They end up going to Niall’s favourite pub in town (“best pint of Guinness in the ‘Gar,” he promises Harry) and Niall quickly realizes his worrying was all for naught. Getting along with Harry is one of the easiest things he’s ever experienced. They talk about golf and music and Harry tries to explain to Niall what “namaste” means. Things get a bit more serious during their second drink, Harry is talking about all of the places he’s travelled when Niall decides to ask why he decided to travel in the first place. Harry’s face immediately falls.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Harry starts.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Niall quickly backtracks. He doesn’t want Harry to feel awkward.

“It’s alright, it’s just I haven’t really talked about this with anyone, is all. I was going to school in London, for psychology, and I had a beautiful boyfriend, and a group of close friends. I was in love, I think. I really did love him. Everything was going pretty swimmingly, until he broke up with me. He was in love with a girl from one of his classes. He had even introduced us before and everything. I was heartbroken, but worst of all, I was realizing nothing in my life was mine.

I went to university because it was expected of me, because I had been so good in school, and my sister had gone before me. I hated it, but I didn’t want to admit it because I didn’t want to leave London. I didn’t want to go back home where I had broken contact with all my old friends just because I had cool new ones. After the breakup I realized I actually didn’t have any new, cool friends at all. They were all my ex-boyfriend’s friends, and as soon as we broke up they stopped hanging out with me. I had nothing, so I packed up and took off. That was two years ago, now.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s alright, I’m mostly over it. I mean sometimes I miss him, because the good times were so good. Looking back though, if I wasn’t so stubborn I would have been able to see the cracks in our relationship. I think I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“You’ve had quite the life, then.”

“It’s been interesting. How about yourself, then? What’s your life story?”

His mind is saying _I can talk to fucking flowers, mate_. But Niall just shrugs. “Well, I was born on September 13th 1993, and-”

“Ha ha, very funny, Niall.”

“Wasn’t a joke, Styles. I was born in Mullingar, I will probably die and be buried in Mullingar, right next to Bobby.”

“Haven’t you been anywhere other than Mullingar? Done anything exciting.”

“Been to Dublin a few times, down to Croker for some games, and I saw McFly there.”

“But that’s it?”

“I guess so. I started working with Brez right out of school, and that’s just been my life. It’s what I’m good at. What I’m meant for, I think.”

“Have you ever thought about going somewhere? Or doing anything else?”

“Well, of course I have. But, everything is here, you know? My dad is here, my friends are here. Over five generations of Horans have lived and died here, you know.”

“Come to London with me.”

Niall’s heart swoops before he realizes, “Wait, you’re going back to London?”

Harry wipes some of the Guinness head from his lips before he speaks. “That’s actually kind of why I invited you out tonight, I wanted to tell you. I had a different method planned, but it just kinda came out.”

“When?”

“About a month. I just haven’t seen my family in two years, and I think I’m ready to go home.”

“I understand, I’m just...can I think about it?”

+

He does think about it, a lot. He thinks about it nonstop for over a week before he decides to do what he always does.

“Brez I need help.” He’s in the backroom at the shop, but he can’t even concentrate on the flowers for the Casey-Robinson wedding, and they had driven all the way down from Boyle just to order his arrangements.

“What is it this time, chief?”

“It’s Harry, I mean, you know he’s going back to London, right?”

“In October, yeah.”

“Well...he invited me to go with him.”

“Really? Well, that’s good isn’t it? Get out of Mullingar, see some of the world.”

“Brez, you know it’s not that simple. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Well, not with that attitude.”

“Hey, I’m being serious here. Five generations of Horan’s, Bressie. Five! I can’t be the one to break the tradition. We’ve kept to Mullingar, we’ve kept The Gift safe.”

“I’m sorry but that’s a load of shite, and I think you know it.”

“What about the shop? What would- oh shut up will you?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Not you,” Niall sighs. “The gerberas are mouthy fuckers. They think I’m being a, well, nevermind that. What would you do if I didn’t work here.”

“I’m not saying we wouldn’t be sad to see you go, but I’m sure we can hire someone else. Or I can get back there. I know a thing or two, you know.”

“I could give you lessons,” Niall offers, smiling when he gets a laugh in return.

“Sure could, chief. My point is, maybe you need to start thinking about what you want to do, and not what five generations of stodgy old Horans would want you to do.”

+

Niall ends up ruining a five generation old secret like this: He’s in the back room of the flower shop on a Saturday, just a few days before Harry is set to leave. He doesn’t usually make a habit of working Saturdays, but he’s been so distracted at work lately, what with Harry leaving so soon, that he decides to put in a few extra hours. He’s working diligently when something starts to happen, something that he’s only experienced once or twice before.

The flowers are all singing in unison, which doesn’t happen very often, a slow sleepy tune that he recognizes from the last time this happened. He starts to hum along, and he can feel a light, like a golden sunbeam, coursing through the room, into his veins. He feels light as a feather. He feels warm, and good. So good, like he’ll never have a bad day ever again. He feels elevated, like he’s floating above the ground.

“What the fuck?” A loud voice breaks through the golden light surrounding him, and he physically feels himself fall to the ground. He also feels weirdly cold, suddenly. He turns to find Harry staring at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Fucking hell.

“Uhhh,” Niall replies eloquently.

“You were...you were like...off the ground, and...there was a light. Are you a magician?”

“Wait, I was actually levitating? Sick!”

“Niall, what the fuck was that?” Harry looks near hysterical by this point.

“Ok, well. Shit. I don’t really know how to say this...I kind of...promise you’ll take me seriously?”

“I promise.”

“I kind of have a thing with flowers.”

“Thing, what kind of thing?”

“I can like...talk to them. And understand them. And sometimes when I’m feeling down, they have this energy that makes me feel better, which is what you just witnessed, I think.”

“Well...that definitely explains a lot.”

“That’s all you have to say? I drop this bomb on you, and all you can say is that it explains a lot? Wow.” Niall tries to tease, but secretly he’s so relieved. It could have gone way worse.

"You told me to take you seriously! Are you lying? Because it's pretty fucked up if you are."

"No, no I'm not. I'm just nervous. You're the only one who knows now, besides my dad, and Bressie. And Bressie's dad I guess."

"Not even your mum?"

"We're sworn to secrecy, by a generational pact or some shit, I don't know. I just know we're not supposed to tell people."

“That’s...wow. That’s a lot.”

“It is, so now you understand why I haven’t left Mullingar, The Secret has been safe here forever. Like my grandpappy used to say, ‘the garden rose grows, lives, and dies in the same spot: where its roots are.” This is where my roots are, I can’t just...transplant myself.”

“So, you’re not coming to London?”

“I don’t think I can. Harry, I’m gonna miss you so much, but I think I need to stay here.”

“It’s alright, we can stay in contact, they have Skype for that now.”

“I’d love that.”

+

It turns out to be incredibly easy to stay in contact with Harry. Niall has always heavily relied on Bressie to be his confidant in all magical talking flower issues, so having another person to talk to is freeing, in a way. They text constantly, and they skype at least once a week. Harry decides to go back to school for baking in January (“maybe we could open a flower and pastry shop together one day,” he says quietly over skype one day, it makes Niall’s tummy ache in a way he can’t explain) and Niall talks endlessly about the weddings he’s done arrangements for, about how the flowers are just as cheeky as ever (“They miss you,” Niall insists. “They do not,” Harry replies. “They do! Just the other day I heard a hydrangea say ‘whatever happened to that long haired fucker who used to hang around?’ I swear!”) and about how he wins first place for flower arrangement in the local fête.

Niall just can’t believe he can miss someone so much, someone who was only around for a few months. He misses Laura as well, which is understandable, because he’s known her since he was a young lad.

“You have a crush,” Bressie reasons over the phone one night.

“A crush on Harry? I don’t...I mean, he’s cute and all but-”

“The dahlias told me.”

“Those fecking bastards I swear to God-hold up,” Niall pauses mid-sentence as Bressie busts out laughing. “You can’t talk to flowers.”

“I know, but I think I’ve proven my point. I’m sure you realize this, but going to London doesn’t mean you can’t ever come back to Mullingar.”

“I know, but five-”

“Five generations of Horan’s have lived and died in Mullingar, I get it. But maybe it’s time to shake up family tradition, huh?”

Niall chews his lip as he thinks. “Harry’s birthday is in a couple of weeks.”

“What are you waiting for, chief?”

+

Bressie helps Niall book the flight, and pack his bags. He’s only going to be gone for two weeks, so Bressie promises to take care of his flat and his garden while he’s away. He even drives him down to the Dublin airport. Niall feels stupid and giddy as he boards his first ever flight. Harry doesn’t even know he’s coming, and Niall has no idea what will happen while he’s there, but he’s slowly realizing there’s an excitement in not knowing what will happen next. It’s something he’s never truly experienced in all his life.

Laura meets him at the airport in London to help him find Harry’s address. He had gotten it quite sneakily, by telling Harry he wanted to send him a birthday gift. Which, in a way is true. It’s Harry’s birthday and Niall is the gift. London is way bigger, snowier, and busier than Dublin is, and Niall feels overwhelmed by it all. They have to take a train and a bus to get to where Harry’s flat is in Hackney. Laura leaves him at the front door, but not before hugging the life out of him, and making him promise to call her if things go sideways with Harry.

All that’s left is to knock on the door. Niall lifts his hand, but before he can even knock the door flies open, and Harry is there. Standing in front of him.

“Niall?”

“Um, Happy Birthday?”

Harry practically throws himself at Niall, and Niall stumbles back a bit at the impact.

“What the hell are you doing here, oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Birthday surprise, I guess it worked.”

Harry leans back from the hug and pulls Niall into his flat. “Come in, you’re probably freezing your tits off out here.”

“It’s pretty damn cold.”

“I heard voices at my doorstep and I just decided to check things out, I can’t believe it was you.” Harry shuts the door and locks it before turning back to Niall. “You look so good. Like, better than I remember.”

“Harry, we’ve been seeing each other on Skype every week.”

“It’s different though, getting to see someone in person. Your blue eyes, and your pink lips…” Harry pauses, and Niall knows what’s coming next. He’s seen enough movies. Harry leans down and presses their lips together. Niall’s are still pretty cold from being outside, but Harry’s are warm against his. Harry grips Niall’s hips with his big hands and pulls him closer. Niall’s seem to drape naturally around Harry’s neck. Harry manages to open Niall’s mouth with his, before Niall decides to pull away.

“This is mad, isn’t it? I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

Harry presses his lips to Niall’s again, once, then twice, before answering. “Getting out of your comfort zone. Moving your roots?”

“I’m only here for two weeks, Harry. I’ll be going back to Mullingar, and to be honest, I’m not really sure what’s going to come of these two weeks.”

“Nothing has to come out of it, we can just see where this time takes us.”

“I do know that I want you in my life, Harry, and maybe I’m willing to spread my roots for you a little bit.”

 

 


End file.
